


First Time ("Hey.")

by youwerefantasticrose



Category: Doctor Who, Roski - Fandom, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:02:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youwerefantasticrose/pseuds/youwerefantasticrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time ("Hey.")

“Hey.”

Loki looked up from his book. Rose stood in the doorway of his room, leaning against the frame, her face bathed in the light from the lamp by his bed. He folded down the page, placing the book on his nightstand and sitting up as she walked over.

She sat down on the end of the bed deliberately, holding her arm awkwardly over her torso. It was subtle, but he saw her wince, her mouth tightening slightly.

“Rose,” he said softly, his question obvious from his tone.

She kept her eyes downward.

 

“Just a rough day,” she said, as he moved closer. “Had to go out after a rogue.”

He reached out cautiously, and she moved her arms, letting him. He lifted the bottom of her t-shirt, pulling it up to her ribcage. He exhaled sharply at the deep bruise that was forming there. She could feel him looking at her, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Looks worse than it is,” she said softly. He reached out slowly, his fingers grazing the darkening skin softly. She shivered at his touch, goosebumps forming on her skin. His hand froze for a moment, and he began to pull it away. She stopped him, her hand grasping his, pulling it back against her exposed skin. She lifted her face, their eyes meeting for the first time that night. His were full of concern, confusion, and a tiny glow of surprised hope. She ran her hand slowly over his, still on her stomach, and her heart clenched at the look in his eyes.

He slowly reached out his other hand, placing it on her, his eyes still on hers, a different question in them. She moved closer to him, moving her hand over his, brushing her fingers over his forearms gently, her eyes answering him. He trailed his hands down a little, tracing his fingers over the plains of her stomach slowly, still unsure. Her eyes closed, and she shivered again, her hands tightening on his arms. He leaned forward into a kneeling position on the bed, sliding his hands to her lower back, his fingers drawing circles on her soft skin. She rose onto her knees, her arms going around his neck, burying her face into it. She sighed into the space between his shoulder and his throat, and his hands tightened on her back, their bodies pressing together.

“Rose,” he said softly into her hair, his eyes closing. She pulled back a little, looking up at him, a small smile on her mouth. He leaned down, barely brushing his lips against hers, still cautious, wary that she might change her mind at any moment. He felt her smile against his mouth, and she pressed up into him, their lips connecting fully, soft and sweet and better than he’d imagined.

Her hands slid up his shirt, her fingers running up and then down his warm back, and his breathing hitched. She made a soft sound against his mouth, something between a hum and a moan. He savored the noise, mentally filing it away. He pulled away, slipping his hands out of her shirt, and the disappointed sound she made almost made him laugh. He reached for the bottom of her shirt, pulling it up the rest of the way gently; once she realized what he was doing, she lifted her arms, helping him, and then tossed it to the floor.

For a moment he just stared at her, transfixed. Her heart constricted at the sight of him, his dark hair disheveled, staring at her as though he’d never seen anything so beautiful, as though he was memorizing every inch of her.

She reached for him, tugging at his shirt now, pulling it over his head gently. When it was gone, he leaned in, kissing her, their mouths opening against each other, tender yet insistent. His hands went to her back again, running over her warm skin and the lace of her bra. He removed it gently, his hands moving now over her bare skin, moving to the front of her body, cupping her breasts in his hands. She sighed against his lips, her hands gripping his back, pulling him nearer. He pressed back, and she lay down, pulling him with her. He broke the kiss, his hands sliding from her breasts to her stomach, softly caressing her skin, drawing patterns with his fingers. He followed the trails with his mouth, as though cataloging every inch of her, hands and mouth and eyes, reveling in each sound she made, each movement with him.

“Loki,” she whispered, and he looked up from her navel, eyes hazy. She smiled, and he returned it, repositioning himself so they were face to face, his body above hers. She leaned up, pressing her lips to his, and he returned the kiss. Her hands slid down his back, pulling him down onto her. Her hands found his hips, and she reached between them, finding the button of his trousers. He lifted off of her slightly, and she undid them, pushing them down his long legs, as well as his boxers. He helped her, removing them completely. He reached down, gently undoing hers as well, and pulling them down, helping her out of them, his eyes still on hers. 

She kissed him again, tongues dancing together, and his hand went between her legs, touching her, caressing her until she was on the edge, heart racing. She reached out, taking him in her hand, and he shuddered, his hands moving to her hips. His mouth went to hers, hungry. She grasped his waist, and he positioned himself between her legs, breaking the kiss to look at her. He paused, and she nodded slightly, a small smile crossing her face.

He slid into her, slowly, gently, and for a moment they were still, eyes locked, the feeling of being together overwhelming to both of them. He leaned down, kissing her softly, and they began to move together, slowly at first, then faster as they built up a rhythm. She felt the heat build within her again, and when he reached between them and touched her, she fell, her body stiffening against his, a cry rising from her lips.

He tumbled after her, his hands tightening on her as he reached release, calling out her name softly, like a prayer. She held him, their limbs tangled in each other, her eyes closed, her chest aching, overwhelmed with feeling. She memorized every detail of the moment, wanting to hold on to it as long as she could. This was different than she’d imagined (she blushed inwardly at the idea that she had imagined it); more tender, purer, sweeter. Perfect.

He reached for her hand, twining it with his as they separated. She laid her head into his neck, kissing his collarbone, smiling against his skin. He traced her arm with his free hand, his head leaning on the top of her hers, kissing her hair.

She hummed happily against his chest, and he pulled back, looking at her with a smile.

“Hey.”


End file.
